Disclaimer

This fanfiction takes place one year after the manga version of Great Teacher Onizuka. Information referenced from the GTO stories come straight from the books. Any modifications to the storyline made by the GTO Live Drama or the GTO Anime Series is not included in this fanfiction. With the exception of this story's protagonist and main antagonist, all characters are the intellectual property of Tohru Fujisawa and not me.

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Spring time marked a new semester in the school year, which usually started at the same time as the cherry blossom viewing festivals, serving as an adequate welcome back to school for most students. The large windows across the room had the blinds drawn, boasting a magnificent view of Tokyo in the midst of the season. Sun rays gave the room most of its light, overpowering the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Every so often, a cherry blossom pedal or two would blow by, brought up by the warm breeze, only to float back down gently to the ground, out of sight from the second story window.

Kenny stared nervously out the windows, desperately looking for something, anything to distract him from the shuffling of papers than rang in his ears; the only source of sound in this room. He sat in a chair that squeaked with the slightest movement he made. And with every squeak, his discomfort was made more apparent to the man who sat before him, behind a giant oak desk, wider than Kenny was tall.

"Calm down," the bald man behind the desk said, without taking his eyes off the papers before him. "This is an interview, not an interrogation."

"Yes, sir," Kenny said meekly.

The man adjusted the glasses sitting on top of his flat nose, the skin on his face and his bald scalp glistening under the sunlight with a thin coat of sweat. A few more tense moments followed when the man suddenly straightened his posture, gathered the papers in his hand, and flung the pile carelessly at Kenny.

"Garbage," he said.

Kenny blinked. Confused.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"You heard me," the man continued, "this is garbage."

"B…but," Kenny stammered, "that's why I'm here. I've never been to a school before so therefore in order to get an education …"

"How can you expect to be a student at Holy Forest Academy, one of the most prestigious institutions in all of Japan, and not have any educational background? You are thirteen years old for God's sake! And you're telling me that your whole life, you've never been enrolled in a school? Who takes care of you?"

"I … I take care of myself, sir," Kenny replied softly, feeling the uncomfortably warm shame rise to his face.

"That's vice-principal Uchiyamada SIR to you!" the man cried. Kenny dared not look this crazy old man in the face. Everything about him screamed experience, superiority, respect, from his square-shouldered, tanned business jacket, to the white dress shirt underneath and the black tie, to his immaculately white Cresta parked in the school's parking lot. Kenny knew it was his car when he saw the man get out of it earlier that day, upon his arriving to the school grounds for his interview.

"I'm sorry."

Uchiyamada snorted, folding his arms across his chest. "You should be sorry, alright, for ever showing your trash-face on school grounds such as this. It's bad enough you had the arrogance to prance up to any school and demand an education. But to our school?"

"Sir, I just thought …"

"No, you weren't thinking! Then again, I guess that'd be too much to expect from someone like you, someone without the financial means to pay for private education, someone living off food scraps on the street. From the looks of this complete mockery of a resume, I would've guessed you were a street child, if it wasn't for the fact that you somehow gained access to a computer to get this shit printed."

"I need an education sir," Kenny replied, biting his lower lip hard to stop the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes.

Uchiyamada narrowed his at Kenny and sneered. "Even if you somehow managed to come up with the finances necessary to pay for your education, how in the world do you expect to keep up with your classmates?"

"I work hard."

Uchiyamada's face twisted, only for a moment, into a sadistic grin. He then, for no apparent reason, exploded in a fit of anger. "Get out of my office. I don't want to see you here, showing this piece of crap resume in my face, ever again!"

"But …"

"OUT!" Uchiyamada bellowed, pointing to the door behind Kenny.

The youth bent down and picked the scattered sheets of paper off the tile flooring and walked slowly out of the room, kissing his future goodbye. It had cost him twenty yen to get the resume printed, and another three hundred at the internet café to make it. Of course, that wasn't considering the countless hours he'd spent at the café prior to familiarize himself with the computer programs.

Change was not an easy thing to come by when you lived on the streets.

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Kenny's stomach growled. Money that would've otherwise gone towards a decent breakfast of a sandwich was spent getting the resume printed. He'd skipped the most important meal of the day to show up five minutes early for his interview, only to have his investment thrown toward the floor.

"You're stupid, kid," he told himself as he attempted to sniff back the tears of disappointment and frustration, "stupid for ever thinking you could enroll into an education institution without any schooling." But it didn't make sense to his heart. Why would anyone need an education to get into a school? If an education was something he'd possessed already, he wouldn't be wasting his time, and his precious money on to get into a school! Why was the world one giant hypocrite?

Oh, well. Besides the small investment, it wasn't like he would lose anything if he didn't get into a school. It would be more of the same, for the last few years of his life that he could remember; sleeping in his cardboard box with the newspaper layers keeping him warm at night, charming the hell out of anyone with his innocent face and pick pocketing unsuspecting tourists for small change. It wouldn't amount to much; about fifty to a hundred yen per victim. But after an afternoon of stealing, he'd have enough money to live like a king for the rest of the day.

That was his brain's way of trying to calm him down, to think rationally. If he had managed to survive thirteen years with nothing, then he could always continue what he was doing as long as he remained alive. But his heart, his ego still hurt. He'd never failed at anything before. Kenny was a slow learner, granted, and he knew that. But he wasn't a quitter if it meant survival. But school … he could survive without school. All he needed was food to survive, really.

Before leaving the school grounds, he turned around and looked back at the white buildings that made up the establishment, that made up the Holy Forest Academy. All around him, students Kenny's age walked with bags slung over their shoulders, or mini suitcases in their hands. The girls were dressed in white blouses with a pastel yellow sleeveless button up vest overtop. Green bowties poked from underneath the shirt collars. The boys were dressed in similar fashion to Uchiyamada, only their blazers were black. Some of them carried them over their shoulders, as the spring air proved a little too warm to dress so formally. This exposed their ties and short sleeve white dress shirts that rippled in the breeze.

Kenny gazed in adoration at the students, similar in age but completely different in lifestyle. They were rich. He could tell by the way they dressed. Their cushy, comfortable lives under the finances of mommy and daddy shone off them like an aura in the way the moved, talked, and gossiped about each other.

In stark contrast, kids like Kenny, the street kids, didn't waste time gossiping. If they didn't like you, they'd beat you up, take your food, newspaper blankets, and money, and leave you to rot.

Standing in the midst of these rich, pampered, well dressed children, Kenny understood that the only thing he had in common in them was age. His soiled yellow T-shirt about one size too big, black shorts, and worn sneakers set him apart from the rest of the kids. No wonder Uchiyamada had looked upon him with disgust. If Kenny were in his shoes, he'd probably have done the same. Or … maybe not. He didn't know, and he wasn't going to waste time pondering over situations that were unlikely to occur.

His stomach growled and that was what snatched his attention away from the students of Holy Forest Academy at the moment. It was time to eat. And before he could do that, he needed some money. There was no better place to be a pick pocket, with all these rich kids around him, their own pockets overflowing with money. Kenny's mouth began to water at the thought of his earnings if he were to spend an entire afternoon here!

Like the keen eyes of a predator, his gaze was drawn to a man getting of the bus. Kenny always liked a challenge. The students were talking to each other, so heavily involved with their unimportant conversations that stealing money from them would be like taking candy from a baby. But the man that got off the bus was older, probably in his early to mid-twenties with short, dyed-blonde hair and a lean, muscular build that showed beneath the T-shirt he wore. He wore baggy jeans and sneakers, dressed not unlike Kenny, only this guy's clothes were cleaner and wrinkle-free. He held a lit cigarette between his teeth, smoking it as he walked.

The man looked at Kenny, forcing the youth to take a step back in surprise. It was as if he could read Kenny's mind, even from this distance. Kenny forced himself to keep it cool, to continue approaching him as if nothing was amiss.

"Excuse me," the youth asked, when he was within speaking distance, "do you have the time, sir?"

"Oh yeah," the man replied, glancing at his watch. "It's ten to nine."

"I'm sorry," Kenny said, leaning in closer, "what was that again?" His thin hand reached into the man's pocket like a wiry snake, snatching whatever was in there between the tips of his fingers. Goal.

A rough hand seized his wrist with a death grip, forcing a startled cry out of him. The man looked at Kenny and smirked. "That's the oldest trick in the book," he said, blowing a puff of smoke into his face, forcing the youth to cough in retaliation.

"Kyoutou!" Kenny gasped, upon getting a closer look at the man's face. Gang member. He was a gang member. He'd had a run-in with gang members in the past, these giant men who would scare the daylights out of him and threaten to kill him. They never actually acted on these threats, but Kenny never put it past them to act on their word. They had a notorious reputation on the streets on Tokyo for violence and crime, though he sensed they had some kind of honor system, as he'd never heard of any of the street kids getting killed by them before. The kids, after all, were no match for the biker gangs.

This man had the look of a kyoutou in his eyes. They had this way of looking at you that would cause your heart to leap into your throat with fear, your hands to go sweaty, your knees to start trembling. Usually when not on their screaming bikes, they walked around in large coats with Chinese ideograms written all over the fabric, and you could spot one from a mile away so you'd know well beforehand to stay out of their way. But what in the world was he doing dressed as a street kid?

"Next time, just use a gun and rob them," the man said, releasing his arm, but not before snatching his wallet back. Then, much to Kenny's surprise, his stern, fear-inspiring gaze melted into a genuine smile. He tousled the youth's hair and carried on his way.

That certainly wasn't the reaction Kenny had been expecting. One second this guy was a punkish pedestrian ripe for the picking. Next, he was a gangster and had Kenny trapped, ready to kill him. The next, the was the nicest guy Kenny had ever come across.

He began to walk away, but with burning curiosity, turned around and asked the man, "Who are you?"

The man looked over his shoulder at the youth, the triumphant smirk still on his face. He cocked his head towards the gossiping kids on the school grounds. "They call me Onizuka sensei."